Broome
Fearsome crocs, hermaphrodite oysters and bum-eating camels: Tracey Spicer discovers all creatures, great and small, in beautiful Broome.
The six-metre croc lurches towards the cyclone fence, its fearsome jaws snapping within centimetres of the screaming children.
“He’s about due to have a go at someone now,” a latter-day Steve Irwin drawls laconically.
“When was the last time he bit someone?” I ask, trembling slightly.
“Yesterday,” he deadpans.
We’re visiting one of the more unusual tourist attractions in Broome – the Malcolm Douglas Crocodile Farm.
In the early 60s, Malcolm was a professional croc shooter; nowadays the only crocs he wrangles are those scaring the tourists on the 22-kilometre crescent of sand known as Cable Beach.
Walking through a set of giant jaws, we see his protégé Jamie hurling chook carcasses towards a pond dotted with beady eyes.
All of a sudden, about 30 salties lumber from the swamp, wrestling and hurling their thousand-kilo bodies against the torn fence.
“Now don’t put your fingers through there kiddies,” Jamie understates.
The Farm is also home to the idiosyncratic Barking Owl, which ‘woofs’ like a dog.
Broome is an eclectic mix of the weird, the wonderful, and the simply breathtaking.
Flying in, you’re welcomed by a tricolor: the turquoise of the Indian Ocean, the rusty Pindan soil of The Kimberley, the bright white sands of Cable Beach.
It’s not one of those banana-lounge beaches, with topless tourists lolling about lazily.
A bunch of indigenous kids play kick-to-kick; a jockey trains his thoroughbred in the shallows; blokes down beers in the back of a four-wheel-drive; camels undulate under an ochre sun, as it slips into the sea.
The camel tours are iconic, so five-year-old Taj and I take the jerky elevator ride up onto Mohammad while Jason and three-year-old Grace climb Jabul close behind.
I’ve never thought of myself as a “yummy mummy” but apparently Jabul thinks I’m delicious, biting me on the bum.
(Fortunately, I have enough to spare.)
“Jabul, don’t eat my mummy!” Grace admonishes.
The injury is soon forgotten as we take a rhythmic ride along one of the most beautiful beaches in the world.
While this region is known as the pearl of WA tourism, it wasn’t always so.
“When Broome was designated as a town, it had no right to be,” according to our guide Jock on the bus ride out to the Willie Creek Pearl Farm.
It was an aboriginal community with itinerant pearlers and explorers, until it boomed thanks to buttons made from oyster shells.
After the advent of plastic cruelled the industry, Mikimoto from Japan discovered there was something else inside the oyster that could earn a pretty penny.
(Every morning, Mikimoto swallowed a cultured pearl for his health, until he died in his early 40s.)
These days, Broome is the pearling capital of the world, exporting 200-million dollars worth of the precious gems every year.
During a fascinating tour of the pearl farm, we learn that everything is done mechanically: an irritant is put inside the oyster shell to create the perfect pearl.
Interestingly, oysters are hermaphrodites.
When the water conditions become poor, the females turn into males.
(Insert sexist comment here!)
Pearl meat is the latest delicacy to grace plates at the top-end restaurants, so we decide to do a taste test as part of a degustation at Selene Brasserie.
The restaurant is part of a stunning new, five-star resort run by pearling doyenne Marilynne Paspaley.
Pinctada, named after the world’s largest oyster, is an elegant 72-room resort tucked behind Cable Beach, featuring private plunge pools and a day spa using treatments from the Aboriginal Dreamtime.
The menu is Middle Eastern (designed by Melbourne chef Greg Malouf from MoMo), the tender and delicate pearl meat served with a preserved lemon guacamole, preceding a chicken tagine cooked en papillote (in a paper bag).
One of the great things about Broome is the choice of excellent eating options.
Try the famous kangaroo skewers at Zanders on Cable Beach, while the kids tear around the adjacent playground and grassed area.
Taste the best coffee in town at the Old Zoo Café, tucked behind the family-friendly Seashells Resort, with spacious self-contained apartments, kids’ pool and playground.
For a Sunday afternoon session, you can’t beat Matso’s Brewery, a mini Byron Bay Beach Hotel overlooking Roebuck Bay on the other side of the peninsula.
Or grab a bite at the Courthouse markets, with its colourful craft stalls in the shade of a bulging boab tree.
On our last night, we take our revenge on the snapping crocs, camels and oysters by, well, eating them – from the Old Zoo’s tasting plate.
The verdict according to Taj: “I’m glad we ate that nasty croc so he didn’t eat us.” v
Wish you were here
Qantas flies to Broome from Sydney and Melbourne, direct from April to October.
Pinctada Cable Beach
Seashells Broome
Getting around: Town Bus Service
More information
Australia’s North West
